My Holy Father, Oh Holy Spirit, we worship and thank youīack to the moment, where it first began.
INTO THE ECHO CHAMBER LYRICS FREE
Your blood made a safe path, so we may walk free Sweet lamb of God, sacrificed at the altar I'll sing hallelujah praise God evermore. I'll read and learn Your words, As they are my fire.Īs Your powr' flows through me, a mighty river. She (C) kinah un (G) ending, is (D) all I long (G) for.Īnd I reach out to You Lord, to know You, my desire. (G) Heavenly lover, let (C) Thy presence (G) hover. Speak to me (Em) gently, as (D) I close the (Dm) door. Now I sing Hallelujah, praise God evermoreĬhorus (G) Into thy chamber, be (C) free Holy (G) Spirit. How my soul rejoiced, as You filled me with hopeĪ fountain of tears washed, 'way all my fears When I first felt Your presence, deep down in my heart Having spent months in a hospital bed, she is dreaming, from her Provençal village, of getting out and walking the world again.Into Thy Chamber Lyrics & Chords By Liz Mitchell | Paul Parnell And she doesn’t know if there will be more music any time soon, either. “It’s about the trauma and disillusion it caused me personally to become an adult woman in a mad world.” She doesn’t know if she will ever tour with the album – she is pregnant with her first child and needs “all my time and energy for love and building my family”. She credits her sister, Marika, with saving it. She had always lacked self-belief, she says, although it was not helped by “some patronising and bullying behaviours in the music industry”.Īfter her accident, Prochet didn’t think Bon Voyage would ever come out. She went back to music school to learn drums – “it was so rewarding to hear the obvious progress” – and overcame her perfectionist streak to write violin arrangements with Fiske. She felt trusted and enforced naps to allow everyone to digest their ideas. They respected each other “so deeply that it couldn’t fail”, says Prochet, the process “absolutely restoring my confidence as a musician”. “It was as punk as it was cosy and warm, a fabulous place to feel the freedom we lacked outside.”
INTO THE ECHO CHAMBER LYRICS INSTALL
“We were so scared they would come back that Swahn had to install some jail-like doors, which we hated doing,” Prochet says. One morning they arrived as the studio was being robbed. They worked in an industrial area, not a fairytale glade, with “shady businesses, junkie neighbours”. It was a hodgepodge of sessions grabbed when “reality, time, money” allowed. Their setup has been described as a woodsy idyll, although that is not quite the case. Melody’s Echo Chamber: Desert Horse – video Seeking refuge from the “brutality” of Paris, Prochet moved to the suburb of Bagarmossen and worked with Fiske and Swahn in nearby Solna. Maybe my only regret is that as a friend and producer he never acknowledged it and didn’t do anything to protect me or my work.”įor her second album, she found support from Flying Lotus, who let her record demos in his Los Angeles studio and declined to get involved because he said she did not need him. “I couldn’t complain, but in my heart something felt wrong with the press and people’s reflections. She was grateful to Parker for his dedication. The acclaim for an artist at her level – underground even in France – was huge. “I remember being as happy as I was frustrated,” says Prochet. Most of the press focused on this detail, framing the record in the context of his catalogue and asking her what he was like. Her self-titled debut, released in 2012, was produced by Tame Impala’s Kevin Parker, her then boyfriend. Plus, she was accustomed to having her story stolen. Prochet calls the album an “adult promise to my inner child’s heart”. Nods to Serge Gainsbourg’s Histoire de Melody Nelson butt up against Swedish screaming, thanks to her Scandi collaborators, Dungen’s Reine Fiske and the Amazing’s Fredrik Swahn. It creates a different world altogether, in fact: a lysergic fantasia as surprising as an anime landscape. No artist should have to suffer to be taken seriously and Bon Voyage, now out on Domino, stands outside Prochet’s trauma. Beyond the basic intrusion, women’s art has for too long been legitimised by their willingness to expose their pain.
“I think that’s very wrong and I have no idea where it came from.” She won’t disclose what happened: it is nobody’s business but family and friends, she says, but one media outlet went digging for more information. She can hear a donkey “screaming” and church bells chiming from the window of her home in a remote Provençal village.
Prochet answers questions over email, a policy of the few interviews she has agreed to. ‘I couldn’t complain, but in my heart something felt wrong with the press and people’s reflections ’.
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